


Now Look at the Moon

by ofamaranthlie



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 08:13:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5490047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofamaranthlie/pseuds/ofamaranthlie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam and Zayn spend a quiet moment together after a OTRA show.  Zayn's drifting away - from the band, from Liam - and Liam doesn't know how to stop it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now Look at the Moon

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically a self-indulgent fic that takes place around the start of the OTRA tour because I'm a sucker for Ziam angst. :') Also, this was inspired by Richard Siken's poem "The Worm King's Lullaby." I posted the selection below. The title is taken from the poem, too.
> 
> "He was pointing at the moon but I was looking at his hand.  
> He was dead anyway, a ghost. I’m surprised I  
> saw his hand at all. All this was prepared for me. All  
> this was set in motion long ago. I live in someone else’s  
> future. _I stayed as long as I could_ , he said. _Now look at the moon._ "

After their show, Liam takes Zayn out to their hotel room balcony, taking care to stay out of sight from prying eyes below. They sit close together, bare arms brushing with each movement Zayn makes as he fishes out a cigarette and lights it up. He takes a deep drag, and Liam follows the trails of smoke as it curls past Zayn’s lips, mingling with the night air. All in all, it seems like a normal night – but Liam knows better. Memories of Zayn mumbling through some of his songs with a hollow look in his eyes plays in his head like a broken record player, and he _worries_. Because no matter how much he tries telling himself that maybe Zayn is just homesick because of the start of the tour, it tastes like a lie on his tongue. This isn’t the first time he’s seen Zayn like this, like he’s going through the motions with only half of his heart in it, and Liam fears what it might mean _._

Even the thought feels traitorous; Zayn wouldn’t leave. Whatever slump Zayn is in, they’ll work through it together, just like they always have; they’ve weathered fights, breakups, and other issues far deeper than this 

(If he tells himself this enough, he almost believes it.)

“We had a good day today, yeah?” Liam asks, and he’s not sure who he’s asking, Zayn or himself, but he needs to fill the tense silence with something, _anything._  

Zayn makes a noncommittal sound as he flicks his cigarette, the ash dropping on the cold ground. “Yeah.”

Liam’s jaw clenches without meaning to, because he can read right through that non-answer. Zayn throws up his walls so effortlessly, concealing his thoughts from anyone he chooses; it’s been a long time since Liam’s been on the receiving end of this, and he forgot how much it hurts, how much it makes him want to break down and scream _please just talk to me_. Zayn’s always been open with him, and the fact that he’s closing himself off now, when they feel so far apart despite being pressed together, only makes his stomach churn. Liam doesn’t know what to do, he doesn’t know what to _say_ to make this all better, and it makes him feel useless, heavy.

Instead, he does the only thing he can think of: he turns his head to press a lingering kiss to the side of Zayn’s head, and there’s a brief rush of relief when Zayn leans into the gesture, soaking up Liam’s affection like he can never get enough.

“Want to go inside, babe?” he asks, trying for a smile that he doesn’t quite feel.

Stubbing out his cigarette, Zayn turns to look at Liam for the first time all night, and Liam’s never seen anything so beautiful as the stars in his eyes – enchanting, heavenly, _unreachable_.

“Kind of want to stay out for a bit,” Zayn says, and there’s a slight tug to his lips, almost a smile.

“Sure thing.”

Zayn nestles back into Liam’s side, but he keeps his attention to the stars, and Liam wonders what he sees, what he’s searching for in the endlessly black sky. He doesn’t ask; not when Zayn doesn’t appear to want to be grounded.

He wants the sky, with its brilliant stars and endless opportunities. He wants _more_ , and god, Liam wants to give him the _world_ , but he doesn’t know _how_.

Maybe he’s not meant to do that. Maybe he doesn’t belong in that part of Zayn’s story, and that thought _crushes_ him, makes his heart want to wither up and die.

“The moon’s beautiful tonight,” Zayn murmurs, sounding more like an afterthought than anything, and it draws Liam from his thoughts.

Liam looks to the full moon, the way the clouds surrounding it glow, and then to Zayn, who looks so peaceful and contemplative, more so than Liam’s seen him in days. It’s like Zayn sees something Liam cannot, and he wants to ask what Zayn sees when he looks at the moon and the stars, but he fears the answer.

 _I love you. I'm losing you. I don’t know how to keep you_. It tastes like desperation and defeat, and if he squeezes Zayn’s hip a little tighter than normal, Zayn doesn’t mention it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr at sinfuldirection.tumblr.com  
>  Thanks for reading! <3


End file.
